You Caught Me When I Was Falling
by LilGreenTadpole
Summary: Oneshot for Fabang Week Day 2: Dance Lessons.


**You Caught Me When I Was Falling**

**This is a oneshot I made on Tumblr for Fabang week, just thought I'd post it on here. I'm not a huge Fabang shipper, but the ship name is about the greatest thing I have ever seen, so I thought I'd contribute. :)**

Rolling down the halls of McKinley High that first day was just as bad as I had expected it to be. The stares, hastily averted when eye contact was made, followed me on my way to my locker. Someone snickered behind me as I struggled to reach the lock that was more than an arm's length above my head. I squirmed for a while, stretching, before giving up on ever getting to my books. I was about to roll away when a hand reached above me and a voice said, "What's your lock combo?"

Before then, I had never really considered Mike Chang to be a friend. After him and Tina had broken up a few months before, I started talking to him less and less than I was already, so when he offered to accompany me to my physical therapy sessions, I was definitely surprised. But I said yes, because any company was better than none.

He came with me to the physical therapist every day after school. When the bell rang he would meet me at his car, patiently waiting, always kind, and always smiling. The first weeks I spent watching as he bent and stretched my legs, hardly able to feel his touch. We didn't speak much, but I knew that nobody had ever treated me with the kindness that he treated me with every moment. Later, when the feeling in my legs had started to return and the grip of his hands registered clearly in my brain, the contact sometimes flustered me. I was too confused by this reaction to fully understand it, so I ignored it.

I had been walking for about a week when he first suggested giving me dance lessons. "It will improve your confidence of being on your feet, and prepare you for Nationals. I don't have any doubts that you'll be dancing right up there with us when we win that first place trophy." He held my gaze when he said it, and the look in his eyes showed me how much he believed it. When I gave him a nod in response his mouth split into a wide grin. I realise that there wasn't ever a chance I could have said no. Not to him.

We started the next day, staying a few hours later after my therapy session. At first, all I was able to do is sway on my feet to the beat of some music, but it was never awkward. Not when he smiled at me like that, eyes watching me carefully and hands ready to catch me if I stumbled. When I become stronger, he taught me to waltz. In the beginning, it could hardly be called that, with him dancing as beautifully as he always does, and my feet dragging in his wake. He held my body upright more than I did.

Soon, though, I improved, and my dance lesson became the favourite part of my day. I told myself it was because it made me forget the moments I would have to spend in my wheelchair, and not because it was the time I got to spend alone with Mike.

When the strength in my legs allowed me to walk on my own completely, no longer needing the wheelchair, a part of me realised how much I had been lying to myself, how much I had grown to need Mike in my life not only for my physical healing, but for my mental healing as well.

I hadn't known if he felt the same way until our last day together in Lima before leaving for Nationals. After completing our routine practice of the waltz, his hand had lingered on my waist. Our faces were close when I looked up to meet his eyes, and my breath caught at the proximity.

"I admire you so much, Quinn." He murmured, eyes shifting between my own. I couldn't speak, my mind too preoccupied with trying to calm my tumultuous stomach. "The strength you had to pick yourself back up, I can't even imagine how hard it was. Not only now, but everything you went through in sophomore year. And now you're on your feet again, and going to Yale even-"

I blinked at this, and the spell had been broken. Jerkily I stepped back and pushed his hand away from where it had been sitting on my waist. He looked startled, and then when I started shaking my head, his features became crestfallen.

"Exactly," I said shortly, taking another step back. My eyes shifted and tried not to meet his, where I know I would see the hurt I was causing. "Exactly, Mike. I'm going to Yale. I'm getting out of this place and I'm going to Yale. I don't need something else holding me back, something that I care about." I hastily wiped at a stray tear on my cheek, mumbling out a quick, "I'm sorry," before turning and leaving.

Now, standing on the stage in Chicago, with all of my friends jumping and screaming as Mr. Schuester accepts the first place trophy, I realise I could not have accomplished this dream without him. My victorious smile fades, and I turn and look past my celebrating friends to find his eyes already watching me. We stay still for a moment, eyes locked, before I start to walk towards him. When I am close enough, he speaks softly, "I knew you could do it, Quinn." I still as he tentatively reaches out and brushes a stray piece of hair from my face, and his tenderness is enough for me to have the confidence to say what I say next.

"You said you admire me for my strength." I say, loud enough for only him to hear. He nods. "You can't admire me for my strength," I take a step closer, "When you're the one who gave it to me." I interlace the fingers of each of my hands with each of his. "Thank you, Mike. For everything."

We kiss amidst the celebrations, the tickling of the confetti brushing my cheek hardly noticeable compared with the soft sensation of his lips against mine. He had taught me to walk again, he had taught me to dance again, and he had taught me to feel again; in ways better than I had ever been able to do before.


End file.
